


It's like no other pain I've ever known

by AslaugRivermoon



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Childbirth, F/M, Feels, Heavy Angst, Major Character Injury, Mention of Death, Original Character(s), PTSD, Tragedy, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-06-03 04:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19456270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AslaugRivermoon/pseuds/AslaugRivermoon
Summary: Oh... OH! He is perfect! He looks so much like him, his father. He looks so much like Vergil it makes her heart swell up with a love she never thought possible. She needs to hold him! Her arms shoot out towards him her fingertips brushing against the silk black blanket he was swaddled in.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I was digging through the deep dark pits of my incomplete fanfictions and ideas for fanfictions on my laptop and I found a prologue to a fanfiction I was thinking about writing along with the plot outline for said fanfiction. I wrote this back when I was like thirteen years old so for the sake of being able to read it and not cringe I re-wrote it. This is probably some of the saddest shit (pardon my French) I have ever wrote in my entire life. I would also like to say I am not 100% certain I will write and post the series that is linked to this. It’s just something I wanted to re-write and post. However, I would LOVE for you guys to give me some feedback and tell me what you think!
> 
> To learn more about my thoughts on Nero's mother read the notes at the end!
> 
> The title is from the song Lost Without You By: Freya Ridings. Give it a listen, she’s an amazing artist!

_The tiny island of Fortuna had witnessed many storms over the years, even typhoons. Tonight’s thunderstorm though was one of great proportions, one that hadn’t_ been seen _in years. It was something a house in town was thankful for, the thunder and lighting drowned out the pained groans and screams that echoed throughout every room. Their origin coming from upstairs. The room was simple with white walls and the same hardwood floor that was all throughout the house. The only furniture was a large wardrobe, a floor-length mirror, and full-size bed on a basic metal frame. This was the typical room for most people in Fortuna, but it was a change for the woman in the bed who was used to and enjoyed the finer things in life._ She had been held _up in what she deemed a poor excuse of a room for eight and a half months and it was a torturous time. She could not dare show her face to the people now, not with her sins and crimes. Another shot of pain_ goes _up her spine and along her abdomen making her moan loudly as she grips the sheets beneath her. Not even her own sister who was sitting next to her dared to provide her some form of comfort by holding her hand. She would see her as dirty, having an explicit relationship with a man before marriage. Not just any man, but a man who was an outsider. It was odd, even she was not welcoming to strangers who came from the mainland. Despite her tendency to reject all religious, moral, and societal standards of Fortuna she was wary of men from the mainland, but him. This one man who was the father of the child in her womb had drawn her in like a moth to a flame. There was something so ethereal and unearthly about him. She could not determine what it was at first until he told her. Until he told her that the religion of Fortuna was twisted, warped, and inaccurate. She could never tell her family that though, that the child she was about to give birth to_ was fathered _by the son of the great lord and savior Sparda. They would truly think she to be crazy and out of her mind. Not to mention she had promised him that she would never utter such words, that she would keep what he told her a secret. It would be one she would take to the grave. A scream tears through the woman’s entire body as she grips onto the side of her head. Her hair_ was soaked _and drenched in sweat from being in labor for so long. It was as if her child did not want to be born and leave the safety of her body. **  
**_

_“My lady you must push, Lady Charmeine you need to push!” The woman who sits between her legs on her bed urges her, she is her handmaid._

_“I know not if I can Lyanna, I don’t think I can do this!” She shouts squirming in pain and discomfort._

_“You can do this. I am right here my Lady, please push.” Lyanna grips both of her hands tightly looking into her jeweled eyes._

_A scream rips from Charmeine as she pushes with all her might. What does her child look like? Is it a girl? Is it a boy? Who will they look like the most? She would love for them to have their fathers unusual but brilliant white hair. That was one of her favorite things to do when he was here in Fortuna, was running her fingers through his hair and massage his scalp. It was so soft like silk, and it had never become frizzy and unkept like hers. She couldn’t help but be jealous of it. More pressure seems to build up in her core and she can’t help but scream while outside another crash of lightning strikes down brightening the room for a brief second. It is only then that she realizes her mother is in the room, standing near the doorway. How long had she been standing there? A sob catches in her throat at the pain that blooms in her chest. Her mother and sister are here merely watching waiting for her child to be born. Offering no words of comfort or reassurance. Charmeine can’t help but call out to her hoping and praying that maybe just maybe she would give her the time of day. Maybe even just a small comfort? Her mothers face doesn’t change it remains stone cold and impassive. Anger swells in her, fuck them! Fuck both of them! She will do this! She will do this without them, she doesn’t need them. She doesn’t need anyone but the child that is a moment away from being held in her arms and him, the father. She only needs him and her baby. With one final push and another roll of thunder loud repetitive wails fill the room. That’s her baby! That’s her child! A smile lights up her face as she looks at Lyanna who is finishing up the birthing process._

_“Lyanna.” A simple statement a question filled in her tone._

_“It’s a boy Lady Charmeine.” The handmaid responds with a smile on her face._

_“A boy?” Charmeine asks her voice filled with disbelief._

_Lyanna raises her newborn son up showing him to her. Oh._. _OH. He is perfect! He looks so much like him, his father. He looks so much like Vergil it makes her heart swell up with a love she never thought possible. She needs to hold him! Her arms shoot out towards him her fingertips brushing against the silk black blanket_ he was swaddled _in. “What do you think you are doing?” A sharp deep tone rings through Charmeine’s body. It’s enough to make her and Lyanna jump and pull the crying baby into her chest as if to shield it from the man in the doorway. Father? Her father is here? Papa… Her voice is too low for him to hear her or he does and ignores her as he walks further into the room. His gaze solely focused on the newborn. “Give that thing to me. Now.” Those words make every inch of her body go stiff and cold. No. What is he doing? What is he going to do with her son? She calls out to Lyanna who stiffens amid handing the child over to her father. A pained expression comes to her face and Charmeine swears she sees tears in her eyes. All Charmeine can do is sit there in shock as her handmaid hands over her baby boy to his grandfather. He turns on his heel and that is when she realizes what exactly is happening. “Papa wait! Please let me hold him, only for a moment please papa!” Charmeine calls out trying to get out of her bed but finds she cannot do so. She is weak and exhausted from the long hours of labor. All she can do is repeatedly call out to her father and eventually her mother and sister pleading and begging that they let her have her son. Pleading to let her hold him as Lyanna tries her best to console and comfort her. She never gets to hold him, and she never will._


	2. Will I recover that broken piece?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy and here I thought I would post nothing else for this fanfiction ever again, but here we are. After this chapter it will become a reader insert so just bare with me my lovelies!! I'm not exactly sure how long this fanfiction will be but I don't see it going over 10 chapters. An anon on tumblr had asked me if I would write more for this and low and behold they must be psychic because I have been. So without further udo here is chapter two.
> 
> The title of this chapter is from the song The Other Side by: Ruelle
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!!

Nero runs his hands through his hair yawning. This was the fifth night in a row, his father had left before dawn and most likely wouldn’t come back until midnight. He wasn’t sure what Vergil was doing, but it was concerning him. The most important thing him and Kyrie agreed upon was making sure Vergil would not distance himself from everyone. That is in able to successfully integrate him into the human world again was to have him form strong bonds with his family. Dante had assured him that his bond with Vergil couldn’t be stronger, but Nero had his doubts. Especially since spending a year in hell fighting one another wasn’t exactly a healthy way of bonding. Then again, what is a healthy way for half-demons to bond? It didn’t matter because Nero wasn’t going to bed until his father came through that door. Nero would not go to bed until he ripped his father a new one for not communicating with him like he made him swear to do. When both men showed up exhausted and in desperate need of a shower because of a year's worth of demon funk, sweat, and dirt the first thing he did was chewed them out for a solid hour and a half. That was before he broke down in tears, he tried his damndest to not show them but he just couldn’t hold it back anymore. The frustration and stress of learning that he had a family only to lose it within a couple of hours had been taking a toll on him. What he didn’t expect was for both his uncle and father to pull him into a tight hug. It was awkward as all get out in some ways because he was certain that both men had never shared such an intimate form of contact and had only been that close to one another when trying to kill each other. However, it was welcomed, and it was something he didn’t know he needed until it happened. Nero wasn’t stupid though because he knew most likely a moment like that would not happen again soon. The sound of the front door opening and close pulls him from his thoughts and a moment later he sees Vergil attempting to walk by the kitchen without so much of a word.

“Hello to you too, dad.” His tone even and calm, but Vergil can tell there's a bite to it. “You’ve missed dinner the past five nights now.”

“I’ll extend my apologies to Kyrie.” It was a simple statement one that made Nero click his tongue.

“An explanation wouldn’t be in there as well right?” His temper gets the best of him, he has to get that from his mother.

There are a lot of things he has inherited from his mother. Things that Vergil never dreamed of him having considering that he learned that Nero didn’t even spend a day with her. He looked like him through and through and even though he had the same ice-blue eyes; they held her spark. They held the determination that she had upon first meeting him and getting to know him. When Vergil was stubborn or cold, a flash of her stubbornness shined right back at him. Each time he saw that spark in his son's eyes just drove the dagger in his heart deeper and deeper. It made his guilt of leaving without her crash down on him tenfold. She said she would not be safe without him there. There was a part of him back then that he knew that but he didn’t care. All Vergil had cared about at the time more than Nero’s mother was his pursuit of power and the goal to be just as strong if not stronger than his father.  _ Look where that left you…  _ A voice in his head bites, reminding him that he didn’t just fail his son by not being there for him but failed him by making it where he didn’t even have his mother. It reminded him that he didn’t just fail Nero; he failed Charmaine, and he failed himself. Vergil is yanked out of his self-deprecation by Nero whirling him around to face him, once again he sees her in his eyes. “You’re not even listening to me, what the hell?!” His voice echoes in the kitchen and Vergil is certain it probably woke up a few people upstairs. 

“I was looking for your mother.” He doesn’t know where it came from, he doesn’t know why he said it but he did and instantly he bites his tongue cursing at himself.

“You were...looking...for my mother?” The words coming out of Nero’s mouth are hard for him to digest, hard for him to believe.

Vergil’s nods and all Nero can do is shift his feet still trying to process what was just said to him. His mother...he had wondered about her when he was younger and those thoughts ended eventually when he began to believe the taunts and insults that his mother was nothing but a prostitute that didn’t want him. That she was a woman that held no love or regard for him. Someone who thought he was nothing but a mistake. Though this wasn’t the case, not if his father had been combing through every nook and cranny of Fortuna for five days straight. It left a strange taste in his mouth. To think that his mother was someone that had him out of love. What kind of woman had the ability to impress his father? What kind of woman would even be crazy enough to pay attention to him at that point in time? From what Dante and Lady had told Vergil was anything but approachable or likable around the time Nero would have been conceived and born. Yet his mother caught his attention. Nero takes a step back running his hands through his hair as the turmoil of old emotions flood in as old wounds open back up. Pulling out a chair Vergil sits at the kitchen table watching Nero somewhat pace and shift in deep thought and nervousness. God, he even had her ridiculous nervous tick of scratching at his nose. How he hated when she did that because normally it was because she had irritated him or caught herself saying something foolish to him. Now as he stared at Nero doing it he found it to be endearing. Unfortunately, his son’s actions made a ball of nervousness fester in him. Nero seemed more troubled and confused rather than what Vergil thought he would be at the mention of her. What in gods name did he end up conjuring in his mind and believing regarding her? What was he told? As far as Vergil knew based on what his daughter-in-law had told him was that Nero was at the most a few days old when he was dropped off here at this exact orphanage. He was swaddled and wrapped up in blanket black as night, which is where he had possibly got his name. 

“You’re sure she...she isn’t…” Nero hesitates unable to finish his sentence in fear that his father hadn’t thought of such a possibility.

“That was the first thing I made certain of because she would have died before she would have willingly given you up. Your grandparents most likely took you from her.” There was a bitterness in his tone that was undeniable.

“Did you find them?” Nero asks somehow already knowing the answer.

“They’re dead and I don’t know of any other living relative.” Vergil states confirming Nero’s hunch.

Nero cursed under his breath before rubbing his nose again.  _ No...don’t give up.  _ He can't give up, if his father still had an inkling hope and based by the look in his eyes he did then he needs to fight too. He needs to fight not just for himself or his father but for her, his mother and HIS family. Right now though he needs rest and takes a few good minutes to convince Vergil to turn in for the night but he does so. Heading into his and Kyrie's room a smile pulls at him. She looked like an angel when she slept. Well, what he'd imagine an angel to look like, anyway. As Nero kicks off his boots and strips down to his boxers, he watches as she stirs from her sleep. His awakened demonic powers gave him more than just a power boost, he found seeing in the dark to be an easier task than before. In the dark, he makes out the curve of her lips, happy to see that he was coming to bed. The brightness of her eyes holding nothing but love and adoration that he sometimes (a lot of times) felt he didn't deserve. There was a question there as well though, one that was most likely based on worry and curiosity. Before she could form it into words Nero responds while sliding next to her. "Everything is fine, I'll tell you more about it in the morning." Luckily that seems to be enough for her because he didn't want to keep her up with the million questions running through his head right now that would most undoubtedly pop into hers. Wrapping his arms around her one of his hands mindlessly runs through her hair. His mother was alive? What was she like? She had to be someone great to put up with his dad. Maybe she was soft? Just like Kyrie… He almost snorts at that thought and shakes it out of his no she definitely couldn’t have been. Whoever she was though he would not stop searching for her. He and his father would find her, no matter what it took. 

**Author's Note:**

> When Devil May Cry 4 came out, I knew right away that Nero was very much Vergil's son and then when Devil May Cry 4SE came out it was practically confirmed for me. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that Nero was Vergil's son. I then asked myself: What woman in god's name could bed Vergil? What type of woman would she have to be to attract him? To me at that point in time of his life it would have to be someone very similar to him (Someone who was educated and well-read) but also holds just a spark of a difference from him and wouldn't be intimidated or put up with his bullshit. She would have be rebellious and not conform to the ways of Fortuna. I also nodded towards the fact that most likely she was of a higher social status. I did this because in DMC4 SE we all know that famous scene. The one where Vergil walks by the woman red. It was the red dress that lead me to think she is from a higher class. Why? because red back in the day is a very difficult color to get a hold of fabric wise. Clothing that was red coasted a lot of money! I assumed based on the architecture in Fortuna that technology although present it would still be scarce. Meaning most likely clothes in Fortuna are handmade. So this was the basis that formed Nero's mother from.


End file.
